Monday, June 14, 2021

checks out

I've left myself in so many ways
from the jester of affirmation
to one taste of you & 
I'm watching my
self swim in the 
pool from the 

"...whatever cute shape I created before sleep that became a trap my leg out papers on the bed/hot"


dreams of good people being

slow at their jobs/loved ones

who get memos and take 

no action, the low battery 

business/backing it up 

at the post office 

in velvet ropes 

and   further parties

zero breaks 

from the 


the job I quit before

starting I walked

through her 

front yard 

was half pool

my wet boots

a children’s caterpillar

some friendship advice

just me and my 

alphabet soup 

as the Joy

my spreadsheets for it ^

how to allocate to you

and you


in my dream this random bitch

who I assumed secretly 

hated me was really 

supportive of me 

when I expressed

how I had decided to 

experience something

a certain way/a peaceful 

montage played

throughout our phone call


next it was my birthday 

and I told yves how it was 

my birthday and how

most of the day I'd forgotten

and they held me for it

then my 2nd grade crew 

(Rasheed and Drew)

arrived on a different tail wind

our historical trio of

baby legislature rubber 

balls in the empty classroom 

chairs stacked/vague

responsibility plus

the joy of our sort 

of sanctioned game


I knew well you were in the room 

I wanted to end the party/

cap it at 1 night but 

I was with mom so

no chiseling of 


we walked through a flooded city

water at our hips, behind a row of tall

matching people the vibe was actually 

high and mom stepped playfully on a 

fire hydrant 

Friday, May 14, 2021

u shape


friday night

notions of service 

stung by your priority

your pre k energy 

puzzled by Jazz 

when it's glass 

for some reason 

a table saw

the same serious songs

for summer/i was feeling

all new nikes

a premise that can run

all hourly 

no mountains this morning

even wet, cold water

but the way it doesn’t rain

in the arms of a 180

we saw yellow icons on the horizon

various IOS representation 

their respective glitches

you kept asking if

i dreamed every

15 minutes

the sun baked sage

i walk here

the constant soft shaking

your brand of alarm

your arms/they're

long corners

Sunday, April 18, 2021

the word came first

a human being is not 
the calm at the center of the whirlpool
but the whirlpool itself
i.e. a pattern
and a pattern is a message
and I don't know what the f that means
but I do know it's poetry

Sunday, April 4, 2021


trying to allow for
the multiple versions of reality
fashion a multi-tool brain
a mobile-esque consciousness

I like to eat with dirty hands
a navel orange off the tree
juice streaking soil up my wrists
sardines on saltines

Sunday, January 17, 2021

most inside

scratch art clouds, walking 
on the earth's surface today
like a boat you said, SS
Patience (!) I'm suss of 
it (patience) you said 
you've seen it curdle

fuck reminding big
style archeology 
heart break me
better cuz this 
graceless ballet

look back at (it)
the sprinkler's 
rainbow you know 
me your cinderblock

it's January 
and next it's 
January in loops 
my private suffers 
our sestina 
our globe
miss snow
her peril and

Monday, January 11, 2021

regular poem

when midday has the vibe
of late afternoon
I know I'm in for it
I know I know 

covid and the wind
still blows

I consult my team,
smoke the crumbs 
on my table

the night takes every 
possible turn

the clouds interlock
in questions 
soothing to 
mind loss

I said I'm unhinged
you said nah half hinged
you said you never know 
if someone is feeling 
cloudy or sunny about you

tomorrow the clouds are verbs
the wet, white roses

in so many pictures
I can't tell our difference 

when the moon is right there
in the morning
the question of sleep

my dreams are 
dark daytime 
a bad theater

I'm undone because
(half done) the sun 
is doing something

you had this snack 
that was an egg 
with a fig in it 
you said should I 
eat it now or later? 
and I said now
because you're glowing 
like the egg, now

our curveball
this gentle evening 

turning myself in 
my dream there was
water and you were 
comforting me
and it was just 
enough of you 
to say so

Saturday, December 26, 2020

your calendar

christmas eve sunset is evil 

the yellow break through 
almost foreign
the unbothered city below 

it's like so
fall on me

you can see the curve


christmas day is clean with
baby element
the sky with clouds is only blue
and only white 

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

skeleton woman

all over the place
picking up the phone like
freedom (within)

if life is the wine
between the jug 
and the glass

and if I'm not wrong
becoming the lover
of your own nightmare?

to be touched well
the pain after 
without it

my miniature 
hectic nature
(a diorama)

cuz in the Big way
I want you to feel so good
so full of love and
if I can be involved 

the way she
smells like soap 
on the 3rd hug 

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

hUge dream

woke up from the mess
with a sore throat and
your name in my mouth

maya says to see it
as a wall hanging

Saturday, November 7, 2020

other side

yesterday was strong
and crystal

mom asked
is this a rainy day
in LA
I said 
kinda yeah

manually giving
permission to
abstract relief 

today is lazy smooth
I wanna have sex
eat sardines

Friday, November 6, 2020

the mountain looks nice this morning 
clear with delicate sun
I’m thinking about you 

the way it's 
warm, dispersed

the thinking is oiled

a serious calm settles
on this long edge
in the shape of
a question or
it calls up 

the peripheral alphabet

I clock my kinks 
for phonics,

it's a good day 
for gravity 

the red light 
at the mountain

Thursday in 3 
slow pieces
when it's done 
work between 2 pillows
and the clouds want to break


in the custody
of its own gentleness 

Friday, October 30, 2020

October 50th

long in longing

the cypress trees
at the top of the street

our walk,
the same one
I've been doing

vitamin D
at the bottom of the my bag

all of my M's

it's always October 
when time 

cherish the red lights
to work, and 
cry quietly
at the mountain

pull up tunes from
point A
to roll thru
again I
pull up 

Thursday, October 15, 2020

question soup 2.0

naked in the Sunday sun

the fan licks 

everything I hung on the black wall

dancing with corners coming unstuck

the fluttering

he's painting a flower with his tongue

I'm tripping on colors

rainbows, black and sunshine

subterranean matter making earthly shapes

holographic, sparkling

what even is a relationship?

an envelope you step in and out of

consent to a mutual reality

something to see by, to see through

I sit on the bench over the beach 

with a cigarette as heavy as the ocean

little girls or are they little seals 

bobbing in the surf

this doing nothing

is who we really are

I want to see the flowers the way I saw them

I want to see the people they way I saw them

I want to hear the celestial music

see the higher order again

be better for the people I love

make them better too

october 14

normal person  after
opening a book 
this morning
the better 
                tackle       an intra
personal  workload 

volunteer my brain
to compute progress
  a slow typist

I sms,
I need love

songs with doorbells

in   headphones

the drums sound

        across the street

spread the word
my contacts


we compare
and contrast
but it's just

this   big evening

Tuesday, October 13, 2020


an ultrasound on my 
un-pregnant belly
it's the closest thing 
to tlc, despite our
small tussle
tell me, I said,
is it normal? 

she said she couldn’t tell me
she said, enjoy your weekend,
you’re young

how come my reactions 
are scrolls
I frowned 
for like
1 minute
of silence

Sunday, October 4, 2020

harvest moon

my heart breaks something like
in half to not be Home 
in October 

I feel like cardboard instead

for the 8th time 
in sensory hell

Sunday, September 27, 2020

sunday the student

on the verge of dying for poetry
again, the boring exorcism of hiatus 
looking back at the word bank
all shy

B said some poems just
walk away! 
like children


J died 7 years ago, today
a dark autumn night in NY
the hill we climbed 
with the news


today is a triangle
with an exclamation point inside

J says
we can't ever do what we want to do
anymore, that's the new secret club

today I go, 
what is a 7 years
a bouquet?

some off lights
reflecting the sun

the triangle with 
the exclamation point


last Yom Kippur
I went to services in SF
where I met an old friend 
and her young dad
it was early morning
and the city was
bright gold

later we wrote
what we didn't need
on scraps of paper and
put them in a clear vase of 
tap water

for atonement, 
I brainstorm some pools in the area


the blood thing
is really more 
about draining
I fainted in the 
process of 
playing cool

they pushed a Kiss 
into my mouth and
squeezed me and
low key 
reprimanded me

the bad quiz on loop 

I can't see my own eyes!
or bite my own teeth

Friday, September 25, 2020

Dear P

I've been so out of touch with myself,
like forgotten how to be curious about my mind...

but last night I slept long and dreamed about a place with cabins:
many divided, yet thematic households on the property
I was performing there, maybe some type of festival
I had some romance with a blank man who was hard to love, because he was blank
a big group of us went for a walk into the dark forest/mountains, on a sort of ridge
beneath us was a rushing river, it got darker and darker as we walked
I wondered if it was fire smoke but it was so easy to breath (mist)
shadowy figures (boys) effortlessly jumping off rocks into the river 
the sight of big, moving water almost brought me to tears

Monday, September 21, 2020


habits are

           this week
I’m backhanding 
my forehead 
thickening plots 

  on the
    plume’s return

the annual 
    haunting of home

the sad memory
of water &
when she told me
to be like it 

we’re on the couch 
at the airport hotel
she’s soft, high

she saw heaven

and isn’t scared

Saturday, September 19, 2020

for the living

acquired taste 
to the point 
of   no return 

you just

lay there by the juniper


in the practice of surrender/

while the moon

lowercase fear

just like

"we" cuz 
I'm getting bigger


if Longing
would shed itself 
like a snake and 
surprise me


a long river city 

whose architecture 
reps desire 
and at once 

her knee highs
her healthcare


Thursday, September 17, 2020

ʎpɐǝʇs ʞɔoɹ

today the kids made tissue swords 
exerting themselves in the ash
the 3 of them, literary
the dust bowl
the cul de sac

the boudarylessness of
blessings, curses
talking fences/feeling
nothing       moderate, mega 
in lieu of     stretch in lieu of
the train assembles
poems slipping and 
sliding the dead friend
with the past tense name

just wanna be at the club
with the mosh pit the
mash up where 
at 3 am 
checks out

Saturday, September 12, 2020

skywriting by jane pauley

I cry looking at photos of great grandma Sally
because she's got the eyes
the eyes that are 3000 years old

sitting on the deck with Dad
swarm of crows flying in synch 
vanishes into the fog

Grandma tells me about a time 
Mom painted herself green, put tinfoil 
on her head, and went to the bar

open field with a window
open field with a window
open field with no child

don't call it an episode 
I'm not your TV

my heart isn't actually inside me
it's where they all are

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Oz / Zoom

Will says he's like a dog

cos he gets along with everyone in the park

and we both say god made dirt and dirt don't hurt

I roll down the slope into the center of the dog bowl

then jump up and run a full lap around it shrieking 

we scream along to Boys are Back in Town

Will conducts us on air instruments

Leo plays bass and sings low

we all try on all 3 pairs of sunglasses for 3 different views of the sunset

I get down on one knee and chug a bottle of water

then demonstrate how to carry 15 things at once

using my feet to pick everything up

Will's in pain and we need to get him home

we take his arms and are off to see the wizard

stopping and starting down the brick path 

Will begs me to put my shoes on

I say if he insists he has to help like Cinderella 

and first can he hold them so I can jump in the hedge

we move three steps forward two steps back all the way to the apt

I turn Will's hat inside out and shape it tri-point like a sailor

he tucks his socks into it like puppy dog ears


there are rumors about me now

about the mess and the homeless man

to them I’m still the cat locked in the box

doing god knows what

but the whole joke

is that it's only as bad as you think it is